A Risk Worth Taking
by Rosewood17
Summary: When every moment might be your last, Beth and Daryl have to decide if their growing attraction is a risk worth taking. Starts in the prison and strays from the show's plot after the group gets separated by the Governor's attack. A slow and sweet build-up between two of my favorite characters.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Everybody! I'm SO excited about starting this story. I posted a Bethyl oneshot the other day and people responded so well to it that I decided to take some of my other ideas and flesh them out into a set of scenes that build up to a comprehensive love story between Beth and Daryl. I have ten chapters planned so far and I'm hoping to update weekly. In all honesty though, I'm a teacher and it's close enough to the end of the school year that I can't make any promises. **

**This story will start with their growing friendship/attraction in the prison, and will go slightly non-canon after the Governor's attack on the prison. Once Beth and Daryl go off on their own, I'll probably make it my own. **

**This particular scene is a little awkward in spots, but I have a real issue with stories that assume that Beth and Daryl have an easy relationship from the start. They have a lot of age difference and a lot life experiences to overcome before they can come to a place where they can be in a feasible relationship. I hope that you enjoy and would like to see more. Any encouragement or suggestions will be appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. **

**A Risk Worth Taking - Scene 1**

Beth readjusted the corners of the faded towel she was using to keep from burning her hand on the bowl of hot stew she carried. She took a deep breath and glanced up the stairs of the guard tower with trepidation. She knew Daryl was up there, and she also knew that he hadn't had a chance to eat anything since coming back from his hunt. He'd managed to find a deer, and the whole prison was in high spirits because of it. In typical Daryl fashion, he'd shrugged off the many thanks and retreated to the tower mumbling about guard duty.

It wasn't sitting right with Beth that he hadn't had a chance to enjoy any of the food that he'd been so instrumental in providing. Even though her natural inclination to take care of people was telling her to march up those stairs and make him eat, her wariness of the enigmatic hunter made her linger at the bottom. She wasn't truly scared of Daryl; in fact she knew that he'd die before he'd let anyone at their camp get hurt, but she just wasn't comfortable around him. He was older than her, he was good-looking, in a rough-around-the-edges sort of way, and since she'd known him they'd only had a handful of conversations.

Telling herself to stop being ridiculous, Beth stiffened her resolve and started up the rough, metal staircase. Besides, if she could get Daryl to do more than grunt in her general direction, maybe she could ask him for the favor that she'd been trying to work up the courage for.

When she reached the top, she shifted the bowl of stew so that she could knock on the side of the tower, but realized that would be unnecessary. Hearing her arrival, Daryl was already looking at her when she walked in. Crossbow in his lap, he looked as if he was inspecting it before she interrupted.

"Hey," she said, letting the door close behind her, "You disappeared before the stew was ready, so I brought you some."

"Figured I'd get some later," he responded tersely.

"Well, now you don't have to wait," she said brightly. She crossed the tower, which was feeling smaller every second, and set the bowl down on the bench next to him when he didn't reach for it. She knew he was expecting her to scurry back down to the others, and she could see the set of his shoulders tighten when she gingerly sat on the bench opposite him.

"So, I guess the hunt went pretty good today, huh?" she asked, feeling stupid as soon as the words left her mouth. Of course the hunt had gone well; he came back with a deer.

"Mm-hmm." he mumbled, apparently unwilling to offer any information.

"How long did you have to track the deer?" she asked, figuring he couldn't possibly answer that in two syllable.

"'Bout two miles."

Beth shifted uncomfortably, racking her brain for some better way to get a conversation going.

"When'd you learn to hunt, anyhow?" she queried in a last-ditch effort.

"I's 'bout eight, I guess," he said, finally setting the crossbow down next to him, " One of the neighbor kid's dads was teaching him, and he said I could come along. So I did."

That was probably the most Daryl had ever offered about his past, and she figured that since he didn't seem too annoyed, that she could probably stay for a bit longer. She still hadn't worked up to her question.

"Oh yeah?" she said with genuine interest, "I always figured someone from your family had taught you."

Daryl snorted.

"Nah," he said, pausing for a second. Beth was just getting ready to start again when he continued, "Merle wasn't around much when I was comin' up, and my dad wasn't sober long enough to be much good to anybody."

"I'm sorry," Beth replied softly.

"S'just how it was," he murmured, "Ain't nothin' to be sorry for."

Beth wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but she knew that she wanted to turn the conversation a little lighter. She certainly didn't want Daryl think she was prying. She'd seen him get angry with people over that before, and the thought of those sharp eyes on her with such intensity caused a shiver to run down her spine. He didn't seem upset, but she didn't want to risk it.

"Well, either way, I'm glad you learned," she said with a smile.

"Kept me alive more than once," he offered noncommittally.

Not wanting the conversation to die, Beth just kept trying.

"You really should try some of that," she motioned to the bowl of stew, "The last time I was down in the cafeteria I found some dried spices, so that's actually pretty tasty if I do say so myself."

"You made it?"

"Yep."

At her affirmation, Daryl picked up the bowl and stirred it a few times with the spoon. Beth wasn't sure why he'd asked about her making it, but it made her feel good that he seemed more eager after she'd said yes.

"S'real good," he said, mouth full, "Prob'ly the best thing I've ate in a while."

Beth smiled and felt some color creep into her face. Daryl had a set of survival skills that left her feeling perfectly inadequate sometimes, so it was extremely satisfying to hear that he thought she was useful for something. She watched in appreciation as he went to put more in his mouth when she noticed the smear of red near his shoulder.

"What happened to you?" she said, the instincts that marked her as her father's daughter taking effect.

He glanced at his shoulder and shrugged.

"Nothin'," he grunted through his stew, "got caught up in a fence I had to jump is all."

Before she had a chance to think properly, Beth had closed the distance between them and was gently shifting the edge of his vest out of the way.

"You need to have this cleaned," she scolded, attempting to tug his arm away from his body.

He jerked a little and scooted further down the bench.

"S'fine," he grumbled, " I heal quick."

"I don't care, it might get infected," she retorted with an air of authority that she was both pleased and surprised to hear from herself, "I'll be right back."

Daryl's expression turned stormy as he made to protest again, but she turned on her heel and marched off for disinfectant and bandages before she lost her nerve. Getting out of the small space allowed her to think for a minute, and she could hardly believe that she'd practically just ordered Daryl Dixon around. She couldn't quit now, though. He'd never take her seriously if she backed down, and she needed him to listen. Finding what she needed quickly, she made her way back to the top of the tower in just a few moments.

Once again he watched her as she approached, and the steely look in his blue eyes brought an unexpected race to her pulse. Trying to adopt an air of efficiency, she set her supplies down on the bench next to him and planted her hands on her hips.

"Take off your vest," she commanded, trying desperately to keep a waiver from entering her voice.

"And if I don't?" he challenged.

She faltered, ready to invoke the wrath of her father when she decided that she needed to handle this without help.

"Then I'll get disinfectant all over it," she stated matter-of-factly.

He sighed and slammed his fist on the wooden bench causing Beth to jump, but to her shock, he shrugged one arm and then the other out of his faded vest and tossed it to the ground by his feet.

"Thank you," she said primly.

He huffed and grumbled, but allowed her to tuck what was left of his sleeve out of the way. She tried to keep her hands from trembling as she handled his upper bicep. It was impossible, at this close of a range to ignore the fact that the muscles there were tight and toned. Beth swallowed hard and scolded herself for such a ridiculous train of thought. Feeling any sort of attraction to this cagey, intense man who was at least ten years her senior was a non-option.

"I thought you wanted me to eat, woman," Daryl ranted in a tone that let her know he wasn't truly upset.

The edge of her mouth hitched up in a smirk.

"That was before I knew you were hurt," she intoned quietly, concentrating on wiping the last of the dried blood from the edge of the long scratch.

"This ain't even that bad," he said, wincing a bit at the sting of the antiseptic, "You 'member when your damn horse threw me, an' I fell down a cliff an' ended up with an arrow in my side?"

"That was _not_ Nellie's fault," she retorted playfully.

"I'll have you recall that I got shot that day too." he continued, ignoring her defense of her mare.

"So what we've learned," she teased, wrapping his arm tightly in clean cotton, "Is that _you_ are extremely accident prone."

Daryl smirked, which was probably one of the closest thing to a smile she'd ever seen from him - at least as a result of a conversation with her.

"You have no idea," he mumbled, "Some of the scrapes I got into as a kid…" he trailed off.

"I'd like to hear about those sometime," she said softly before she could stop herself. What was she thinking? She had no business delving into his life like that.

"Well maybe I'll tell you about 'em," he said, with what might have actually been a tease, "You know, once I've recovered and all."

Beth giggled lightly, surprised at how willing he sounded.

"I'd listen," she teased back, tucking in the edge of his bandage, "and probably laugh."

She glanced at him after giving his bandaged a gentle pat and realized that he had looked up at her. It took her a beat too long to realize that she was still in his space with her fingertips resting lightly against his arm. This close to him, she could tell exactly how blue his eyes were and she was startled to see that they were watching her intently.

Before she had a chance to think something too stupid, Beth cleared her throat and stepped away. She seized his abandoned bowl of stew and shoved it back to him.

"You should finish that," she ordered.

He grumbled a little, but shoveled some of the food into his mouth anyway.

"You're a lot bossier than you used to be," he complained.

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, but she noted that he was actually doing what she told him to do. She was also surprised to realize that she was beginning to enjoy her conversation with him. He wasn't nearly as gruff as he appeared once you got him talking.

As a silence settled in around them, Beth knew it was time to ask what she had come to ask. She took a deep breath and faced him as he scraped the last of the stew from the bowl.

"So, I sort of have a favor to ask you," she said hesitantly.

"Shoot," he replied, leaning back on the bench and propping his feet on the corner of the bench.

"It might sound kind of silly," she started quickly, "but I would really like to be able to contribute more to the camp."

He watched her appraisingly, waiting for her to finish.

"I feel like I'm ready to start going on runs and defending the camp more," she continued, "but I don't know anything about fighting the walkers. I mean, I can shoot pretty straight, but Maggie said I'd have to get better with my knife if I wanted to leave the prison, and I was thinkin' that maybe you could help me?"

He stayed quiet for longer than Beth was comfortable with. Her biggest fear in this situation was that he would blow her off and dismiss her as a little girl that needed protecting. That's basically what Maggie had done when she'd brought it up, but a part of her understood that it was because Maggie wanted to protect her. She was hoping if she could improve in her hand-to-hand skills, then maybe the leaders of their group would start to see her as someone that could handle herself.

She wanted to be useful beyond caring for Judith and cooking for everyone. While she enjoyed doing those things, she was tired of waiting around at home while everyone else did the dangerous work.

"Please?" she added softly, when he didn't respond.

After what felt like an eternity, Daryl shrugged his shoulders.

"Guess I can't argue with you wanting to be able to defend yourself," he finally acquiesced.

"Really?" she exclaimed, unable to hold back her excitement.

"Why do you want _me_ to do it, though?" he challenged, "Wouldn't Maggie or Rick be a better idea?"

Beth exhaled, trying to find the words to explain.

"Everyone around here thinks I need protectin'" she explained, "and you don't seem to think I'm useless."

"You ain't useless," he countered, "everyone knows that."

"I know," she breathed in frustration, "but it sucks being here all the time while all the people I love go out and risk their lives. I wanna be there too. And I want you to teach me. You're the best."

He ran a hand through his hair, a look of deep concentration on his face.

"Alright," he finally said, "I gotta go on a supply run tomorrow, but we can get started the next mornin' if you want."

Beth felt herself break into a huge smile.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed.

"I ain't gonna take it easy on you, though," he warned, " If we do this, you gotta learn for real."

"Good," Beth said with a determination that she was proud of, "it's not an easy world out there."

"Sure ain't," he agreed, picking up his crossbow again for the first time since she'd joined him in the tower. Beth stood and dusted her hands on the side of her jeans. She decided that since he'd agreed, she leave him alone for the night. She didn't want to risk him getting annoyed and changing his mind.

"I should be getting back to Judi," she said, moving for the stairs, "Goodnight."

"Night," he replied, returning his attention to his crossbow.

Beth took the stairs two at time, and got halfway down before she paused and looked back up. She considered going back to thank Daryl one more time, but decided against it. Being friendly with Daryl was a knew development, and she didn't want to push it. She continued down the steps, the excitement of learning something new causing her to hum as she went.

What she didn't know was that Daryl had set his crossbow aside and stood up to make sure she got inside alright, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he heard her song.

**Thanks for reading, loves! Please review and let me know what you're thinking! **

**Rosewood17 3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Surprise! I know I said updates would be weekly, but y'all made me feel so good with all the review and follows that I was too darn excited to wait! I thought about trying to reply to everyone, but I figured you'd appreciate an update more! Seriously, thanks for the love. It makes me want to get updates out to you faster!**

**Here's some incite into Daryl's head. I hope it lives up to expectations. **

**A Risk Worth Taking - Scene 2**

As Daryl made his way quietly back to the prison, he was grateful for the solitude of the woods. Sometimes people came with him, which he didn't mind, but he found that today was a good day to be alone. He had woken up practically with the sun, and wandered out into the woods for a quick hunt before he had to meet Beth for their lesson.

If he was honest, she had shocked the hell out of him the other night. Not many people ventured up to the guard tower when he was there, and even fewer stayed to chat. Much as he resented the intrusion at first, he found that he didn't hate sitting up there talking to her. She had come a long way from being the scared little girl on her Daddy's farm, and he respected her desire to become more self-sufficient. He wasn't totally positive, however, that he would be the right person to teach her.

Daryl was a lot of things, but patient wasn't one of them. Most of what he'd learned about fighting was learned out of necessity, and he wasn't sure that he'd be able to break it down in an educational sort of way. If Beth wanted steps and techniques, he didn't have them. He was going to have to try to teach her to fight on instinct, and while he knew that Beth had some practical instincts, he didn't think they included violence.

He had agreed though, and so he'd at least give it a shot before trying to convince her to ask someone else. Also, the thought of disappointing her was weighing on him more than it should. He kept remembering the way her whole face had lit up when he'd said that he'd teach her, and the thought of making that disappear was not one he liked.

Daryl had caught himself watching her over the past few days and trying to pinpoint what it was about her that made him say yes in the first place. A few of the others from Woodbury had approached him about crossbow or hunting help and he'd turned them all down. For some reason, saying no to Beth hadn't been an option. Maybe it was because, grudging as it was, he had a pretty high level of respect for her. Beth had come through a lot since he first met her, and even though she wasn't a fighter, she made a point of taking care of the younger kids and keeping everyone well-fed and patched up. Those things were important too, and he'd be a fool if he didn't recognize it.

As he approached the fence, he raised a hand in salute to Michonne who was on guard duty, and she opened the gate for him. He slung his crossbow around his back and began detaching the squirrels he'd managed to bag from his belt.

"No deer this time, Dixon?" Michonne called.

"You win some, you lose some," he shrugged back.

Michonne nodded and continued prowling the perimeter of fencing. The fact that she wasn't one for conversation was one of the the things Daryl appreciated most about the woman.

He wandered down to the outdoor kitchen that Carol had rigged up in the yard to deposit the squirrels and was surprised to find Beth there, hauling a pot of water up onto the grill.

"You know that ain't never gonna boil with the coals that low, right?" he said in the way of greeting.

"I know that," she huffed back, "but if I can get it hot enough, we're gonna eat _great_ tonight."

"How's that?" he queried, grabbing a few pieces of wood off the pile and shoving them below the grate.

"Maggie and Glenn found a bunch of boxes of pasta and canned tomatoes on their run yesterday," she said excitedly, "That combined with the onions Daddy and Rick have been growing - I think I can make something resemblin' spaghetti!"

Daryl raised his eyebrows and felt his stomach growl at the thought. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had spaghetti.

"Well, seein' as how that fire's gonna take at least a couple hours to get that giant-ass pot to boil, how's about we go and get started on those fightin' lessons while you wait."

He wanted to get this over with before he had time to second guess himself too much.

"Alright," she said grinning at him, "Is what I'm wearing ok?"

Daryl shrugged, even though it wasn't a stupid question. You had to be comfortable to fight well, and you were totally screwed if whoever you were fighting found something to grab onto.

He circled her, looking from top to toe and trying not to notice the way her jeans hugged hips that were slim, but did not belong to a child. He mentally cursed himself for being a dirty old man. While there was no denying that she was pretty, this girl was entirely too young and sweet for him to even be thinking anything along those lines.

He moved in front of her again, putting some needed distance between them, and motioned to the tangle of bracelets on her arms.

"Those need to go," he said gruffly, "Might get caught up on somethin'."

He watched as Beth hastily removed the bracelets and attempted to shove them down into the totally useless pockets that were in women's pants.

"Also might wanna put your hair up," he motioned to the tumble of blonde that hung halfway down her back.

"Right," Beth said matter-of-factly, securing it into a ponytail with one of the bracelets, "Don't want it in my face."

"Y'also don't ever wanna give anybody the chance to grab it."

"So where do we go?" she asked, eyes bright and excited.

"I's thinking about the side yard," he answered, indicating the direction with his hand, "figured it'd be best if we don't get ourselves an audience."

"Good thinkin'" Beth agreed, "I'm nervous enough without everyone bein' amused by how terrible I'm gonna be."

Daryl chuckled.

"Once I'm done showin' you, ain't nobody gonna be laughin'." he said, surprising himself. He wondered where this show of confidence was coming from; especially considering the fact that he was doubtful just twenty minutes ago. Maybe if Beth believed he could do this, then he could.

He set his crossbow down once they reached their destination and squared off, facing her.

"So what all do you know 'bout fighin'?"

Beth shifted her weight and tucked her thumbs into her pockets.

"Nothin' really," she admitted, "I mean, Rick taught me to shoot, same as he taught everybody else, but that's all."

"Have you ever actually hit anyone?"

Her face turned the darkest shade of red Daryl had seen yet, and he tried to contain his surprise.

"I slapped a boy's face in high school once," she confessed sheepishly.

"Why?" Daryl asked, protective hackles rising involuntarily.

She straightened her small shoulders and met his gaze square on.

"He thought that buyin' me dinner gave him the right to put his hands where they weren't wanted."

Daryl fought to keep his anger in check. He couldn't fathom why that tiny confession had him longing to do some very real damage to kid who was likely already dead. He had to get it together. He couldn't allow little Beth Green to get under his skin this much.

"Sounds like the bastard deserved it," he grumbled.

To his relief, she smiled a little and looked as if she was beginning to relax. Now he just wished he could.

"Ok," he said, trying hard to think, "So, let's say you want to hurt me, but you don't have a weapon. Where do you hit?"

Beth worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Umm, your face?" she guessed with a shrug.

"Wrong," he said, "My face has a lot of hard bone to it that can mess up your hand real bad. Try again. Think about places that are soft, where you can do a lot of damage."

She glanced over his body and started to say something, but then changed her mind and looked at her shoes.

"What?" he asked, trying to maintain his patience, "Ain't nothin' you gotta say gonna shock me, girl. I promise you that."

She met his eyes shyly and ran the toe of her boot through the packed dirt at her feet.

"I's just thinkin' that I can't imagine you havin' anywhere on your body that isn't hard."

Whatever he thought she was afraid to say, it certainly wasn't that. Daryl knew her words were innocent - that she was referring to his strength and not anything that his filthy mind was creating, but damned if those words coming out of her mouth all shy like that didn't cause a reaction low in his gut. He fumbled for how to recover without clueing her into his thoughts.

"I-i guess I am a skinny cuss," he started, in a voice that he hoped was unaffected, "but if I can't breath, I can't fight either."

He raised his eyebrows, hoping that she would draw the right conclusion from there, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Your neck?" she guessed again.

"Exactly," he approved, "Goin' for someone's throat ain't real sportin' in a proper fight, but if its a walker or someone who means you real harm, you don't worry about that shit."

Beth nodded, looking like she was mentally taking notes.

"Now, I ain't gonna lie to you," he continued, "You're not going to be able to hold your own for too long against somebody bigger'n you, but if you move fast and know where to hit, you have a chance of gettin' away so you can run."

"That makes sense," Beth said, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet.

"You wanna try a punch?" he asked, noting how eager she looked.

"Sure," she said nervously, "Just in the air?"

Daryl moved a little closer to her and held his palms up to her at shoulder height. He didn't have anything to protect his hands, but if his instinct was right, Beth wasn't going to be able to do any real damage to him. Not yet, anyway.

"You sure?"

"Mm-hmm. Give it a try."

Using her right arm, Beth punched lightly into his open palm. Her form was terrible, but she had a look of concentration on her face that said she was open to suggestion.

"Well, that was…" Daryl trailed off, trying hard to be nice.

"Awful?" she supplied, "I know. That was probably the sissiest punch on the planet."

"Maybe," he agreed, the corners of his mouth turning up, "but it's because you only used your arm."

She looked at him inquisitively.

"A good hit needs to come from your whole body," he explained, "If you take a little step first, and use that motion to swing your hips into, it puts all your power behind your punch. You know, instead of just what's in your arm."

Beth's face lit in recognition.

"Like a volleyball serve!" she exclaimed.

"What?"

She made a motion like she was tossing something above her head and then smacking it with her other hand.

"My volleyball coach said the same thing," she said quickly, "For a hard serve, you have to step into it."

"Sure," Daryl said. If that analogy worked for her, it worked for him. "Can't say I've played much volleyball, but it sounds similar. Try again."

Beth punched his hand a few more times. Her hits were getting a little stronger, but she was still throwing her arm too late. It needed to coincide with the hip movement, and she couldn't get the timing right.

"Almost," he allowed, taking a step back, "Try like this."

He punched the air a few times, keeping his wrist rod-straight, and causing her to take a step back. She tried again when he was done, her brow furrowed in concentration. After ten or so times, she put her hands on her hips and sighed.

"I just can't do it fast like you can," she mumbled.

Daryl hesitated. He knew what would help, but he was almost positive that it was a bad idea. Sighing slightly in resignation, he decided that he was probably going to hell as it was anyway.

"C'mere," he said, reaching for her hand, "Lemme show you."

She paused, not sure what he was asking, and he felt his anxiety level move up a notch.

"C'mon, girl," he almost barked, "I'm not gonna bite you."

He seized her wrist and dragged her body in front of his, positioning her back to his front. He felt her sharp intake of breath and tried to hide his own.

"Now," he said lower, right next to her ear, "Do it like this."

In, what felt like, slow motion, he balled her right hand up into a fist and wrapped his larger one around it. He went through the motions slowly, guiding her body with his, until she had the arm swing down.

"Now add the hips," he instructed.

Gritting his teeth and willing his thoughts to stay sane, he lightly grabbed her hip, trying desperately not to notice how his hand practically wrapped around one side of her. He forced her to swivel in the correct direction in the same moment that he guided her hand through the punching motion. He looked down to check her feet and noticed that her pulse was jumping at the side of her neck. Either she was scared or… No. That wasn't possible or a good idea. He should be shot.

He stepped away so fast, that she swayed a little as she was thrown off balance.

"Right," he said gruffly, "Now you practice that a hundred times til it feels natural."

She looked a little dazed, but nodded nonetheless. He stood there looking at her with no idea how to proceed. He figured they should just call it for the day, before he made an even bigger ass of himself. If she wanted to do this again, he'd focus on knife skills, or something else that didn't require him touching her. He clearly couldn't be trusted.

"S-so, I just practice that for now?" she asked, "What next?"

"Well, I got some stuff to do right now, but we can work again, if you want, some other time?" he mumbled, feeling like a damn schoolboy. A part of him was hoping she'd say she'd had enough, but the other part was praying she wouldn't.

"Yeah," she replied, brightening again, " I promised Carol I'd cover her shift with the kids for the next couple of days, but then, maybe?"

"Sure."

"Ok."

Daryl lifted his crossbow again and made to bolt for the cover of the woods where things made sense when she called his name again. When he turned to look at her she wore that same smile from the guard tower.

"Thanks!" she said.

He allowed the corner of his mouth to turn up in response before heading off. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that she was practicing the punch and doing every move damn near perfect.

**Please review, and make my day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey there! I'm so excited to hear that you guys are as excited about this story as me! Over 50 follows in less than a week is pretty exciting for me! You guys rock, and I appreciate you!**

**As our story continues, we'll get a little more insight into the mind of our favorite redneck. While there will be chapters from both Beth and Daryl's POV in this story, they won't always switch each chapter. As we start seeing them spend more time together, I want to give fair warning that it's gonna be a lot of little moments for these two before any heavy romance happens. It'll happen - I promise, but I really feel that they need a slow build. Those are the best kinds of love stories, after all. :)**

**Also, I originally planned for this to be 10 chapters, but I keep getting excited and adding ideas for more. **

**Thanks for the love, and please review and tell me your thoughts. **

"Are you chopping onions, or are you gonna stab something, girl?" Daryl asked bluntly.

After several weeks of training with him Beth had gotten pretty competent in hand-to-hand fighting, but she was still relatively untried with the knife. Daryl referred now to her awkward pencil-like grip in the hilt of the small hunting knife he had found her.

He watched in slight amusement as Beth blew several wayward strands of blonde hair out of her eyes and adjusted her grip.

"I guess you get used to holding it a certain way," she replied sheepishly.

If Daryl was honest with himself, he was increasingly impressed with how hard Beth had worked over their last few sessions together. She was never going to be a warrior like Michonne, but he felt confident that if someone or something came at her, she'd at least be able to do some damage before she got away.

"Well, you ain't in your kitchen now," he teased.

Beth rolled her eyes and smacked at his arm.

"Thank you oh wise and wonderful instructor," she replied sarcastically, "I just don't know what I'd ever do without you."

Daryl found himself fighting a grin. One of his favorite things about their training sessions was that he had gotten to see a side of Beth that he never knew existed. A side that was a little sassy if you asked him.

They worked for a few minutes on technique, Daryl being careful to explain that her best options in a real fight would be to stay low and slash at places where there was a lot of muscle. He had spent a lot of time this morning thinking of the different ways he wanted her to practice. As it turned out, he was much better at breaking down the steps than he ever thought he'd be. He was finding that if he spent a few minutes before their time together thinking about it, he could actually come up with ways to explain that seemed to make sense to her. He'd never taught anyone anything before, and he was constantly surprised by how much pride he felt in his chest when she got something right.

"You feelin' pretty comfortable with it?" he asked, checking her form again.

"I think so," she said with a determined nod.

"How would you feel about some real practice?"

Beth looked at him quizzically.

"Are you suggesting that I stab someone?" she asked dryly.

It was Daryl's turn for an eye roll.

"I's thinking we could go try on some of the walkers by the fence. I know you've gotten 'em a few times, but the knife is a lot different than that crowbar you use when you're just clearing the fence."

He saw Beth swallow hard, and he knew that this would probably be difficult for her. You had to get unnervingly close to something to end it with a knife, but if she was going to learn, he'd rather it be behind the fence at first.

"Sure," she murmured with a total lack of confidence.

"You'll be alright," he affirmed, "Just remember to try an' go through an eye or somethin'. It takes more strength'n you realize to make it through a skull."

"Right," she deferred, taking in everything he was saying.

That was one of the things that made it easy to teach Beth. She might be getting comfortable enough to make a sarcastic comment or two, but when it came to actual instruction, she hung on his every word.

They approached the fence, and the usual pack of walkers that hung around began to growl in anticipation. Daryl remembered what Rick had said a few days ago about having to find a way to reinforce the fence. Enough walkers at once could probably pull that chain-link right out of the ground if they were riled up enough. It was one of the reasons that the daily fence clearings were so important. He knew Beth had done that job before, but he also knew that she'd always used something that had a little more leverage to it than the knife she was holding currently.

She was standing about three feet off the fence, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet when a childlike cry tore through the air causing both of them to turn back toward the prison.

"Beth!" the cry came again, sounding utterly terrified.

Beth dropped her knife where she stood and took off at full speed towards the small blonde girl that was jogging awkwardly toward them. He couldn't tell from this distance, but he thought it was Mika, one of the girls that had come in from Woodbury. She was clutching something to her chest and trying desperately to reach Beth.

Swearing, Daryl collected Beth's forgotten knife from the ground and started after her. He saw Beth reach the crying child and drop to her knees in front of her, placing one delicate hand on the bundle that she carried.

As he approached, his heart dropped to his knees when he saw a whimpering Judith in Mika's arms, blood dripping down her little face from a gash above her eye. He made it up next to them in enough time to hear Mika's tearful confession.

"...and then Marcus ran behind me, an' I lost my balance, an' I just dropped her," Mika said, through messy hiccups, "Bethy, I'm so so sorry. I swear it was an accident."

Beth shushed the girl with a calm that Daryl wished he felt. Something about seeing kids get hurt brought unwelcome memories coursing through him. He tried to stifle his panic and turn his thoughts away from all the times in his childhood he'd spent bleeding. As he took in the situation, he realized that Judi's injury probably looked worse than it was, but he couldn't help but be concerned for the baby.

Before he could process it all properly, Beth was gently taking Judith from Mika's arms and handing her back to him. The tears and blood mixing on her little face wrenched something deep in his gut and he tried to cradle the sweet little girl as gently as he could. On instinct, he pulled a bandana from his pocket and used it's cleanest corner to dab at the mess on Judi's face.

He watched as Beth placed her hands on the sides of Mika's face and wiped at her tears.

"Don't you worry, darlin'" Beth soothed, "accidents happen. Me'n Daryl are gonna take her inside and get her all patched up. She'll be just fine."

"A-a...are you sure?" Mika stammered, "Cause she's bleedin' a lot, an'..."

"Shhh, shhh," Beth cut her off, "Head wounds always look scarier'n they are, baby girl, it's gonna be alright."

Mika nodded shakily, and Beth wrapped her in a quick hug before sending her back inside and turning to Judith, who was still in his arms.

"Let's taker her to my room," Beth suggested. Her voice was calm, but her forehead had a tiny wrinkle of worry.

Daryl was surprised when she turned to lead the way and hadn't taken Judi from him yet. He didn't mind; he loved holding Judith and in her current state, she had cuddled into his shirt front and was clinging to him for dear life. He felt an unfamiliar sensation swoop in his chest. He wasn't used to being depended on by something so tiny and innocent, but he found that he didn't hate it.

Once they got into Beth's cell, she cleared a space on the bed and quickly retrieved a first aid kit from the corner. She sat and turned to him, holding her hands out to take Judith. The baby whimpered a little as Daryl pried her fingers from his shirt-pocket, but settled quickly once she was in Beth's arms. Awkward once he had nothing to hold, Daryl wasn't sure if he should sit or stand. He settled for taking one knee on the hard cement floor and passing Beth the supplies she asked for from the kit.

He waited as Beth expertly cleaned the cut on Judi's forehead, gently probing the baby's head for further injury.

"Her pupils look normal," Beth said in a soft voice, "so I don't think she's got a concussion."

"Good," he responded, finally feeling a bit of relief. If Beth thought things were alright, then he was willing to trust her judgement.

He watched with growing fascination as Beth handled the entire situation with a maternal grace that Daryl had never seen in anyone before. When his mother had been alive, she had done the best she could for him and Merle, but soft hands and murmured singing were an entirely new experience for him. He settled in, back against the concrete wall, as he allowed himself an unguarded moment to take it all in.

As if she'd been born to, Beth cradled little Judi in one arm while placing a skin-colored bandage over her forehead, never once losing a beat of the song she was humming. Judi, who had started to fuss when Daryl had first given her up was beginning to relax again. When she had finished, she wrapped both arms around the child and rocked her gently until the tiniest bit of a smile started on Judith's face.

"There's my happy girl," Beth cooed, lifting her up for a kiss on the nose.

When Beth glanced at him and caught him watching, Daryl coughed and made a point of making sure his boots were tied.

"It's about time to feed her," Beth said warmly, "You wanna help me?"

Daryl shrugged. He did indeed want to - wanted to stay in this tiny room with her and the baby, pretending that all the shit on the outside wasn't real for awhile.

"I suppose," he mumbled.

Beth stood, handed Judi down to him, and began making a bottle. She had the formula and several bottles of water on a shelf and he figured that she kept it in here so that on nights Judi stayed with her she wouldn't have to go all the way to the kitchen to retrieve them. Once she had it all mixed, he expected her to take Judi, but instead she offered him the bottle.

While he'd fed Judi before, there was something different about doing it while the woman who was practically her mama watched. He shifted the baby up a bit and couldn't help but smile when her tiny hands reached for the bottle.

"Is that good, darlin?" he asked her, softening his voice.

He heard Beth chuckle from the other side of the room and wondered if she thought he was being ridiculous.

"What?" he asked, trying to keep the defensive edge out of his voice. He tried to tell himself that he didn't give a damn what Beth thought of him, but even in his head he knew it was a lie.

"You're just good with her, is all," Beth said smiling.

"Shocks the hell out you, huh?"

"Not exactly," she explained, handing him a rag to wipe any spilled formula with, "I've known you were good with her from the day she was born. I just know you're the youngest in your family, so I didn't see how you'd gotten much practice."

Daryl felt himself relax. Beth seemed pleased with him, just curious about how he knew what to do. He had to remind himself constantly that her questions weren't meant to pick fights. It was a new concept when you had grown up with Merle.

"Growing up," he offered, not quite sure why, "there were a few times our schoolteachers got us put in foster care for awhile."

She sat down next to him, big blues eyes focused on his story.

"One of the families had a bunch'a kids. I's about the right age to watch out for 'em, so I guess I just sorta learned."

"I didn't know that," she said softly. He looked at her and was relieved to see no pity on her face. Most people pitied you when your life had gone like that and it was one of the reasons that Daryl never talked about it. He'd taken a chance telling Beth, and was glad that she hadn't gotten all sappy on him.

"That's cause I don't tell people," he confessed.

To his surprise, Beth laid a small hand on his arm. He could feel her warmth all the way through his shirt sleeve.

"I'm glad you did," she said shyly, "tell me - I mean."

He had no idea how to respond to that, so he just held her gaze.

"I-it makes me feel like I'm getting to know you," she continued.

"Ain't much worth knowing."

She smiled and shook her head slowly.

"There's more'n you realize," she said in a voice so soft he thought he might have imagined it.

He racked his brain for something good enough to respond with, something that let her know he was glad he'd told her too, but was rescued when Judith suddenly burped, spitting milk all over both of them.

"Judi!" Beth exclaimed, taking the baby from him, "That was not very polite, little miss."

While he dabbed his shirt with the rag she'd given him, Daryl knew it was time for him to go. As she began changing Judith, he pondered the fact that their conversation had gotten personal way faster than he was used to. Apparently he was a regular chatterbox around this girl. He couldn't explain it if he tried. Beth was so unlike anyone that he had ever interacted with in his previous life. She was definitely tougher than most people realized. How far she'd come in fighting lessons and the fact that she wasn't intimidated by him were proof of that. But there was a softness to her, as well, that he had no defenses for. Sure she was attractive, but he'd been attracted to women before. This wasn't the same. Something about her kindness and the way she just wanted to take care of everyone was drawing him like a moth to a flame, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"I'll see you 'round, Beth," he said, standing to make his exit. He needed to clear his head, before he started wishing for things that would never be possible.

"Bye," she said, turning to smile at him before he went.

He'd just started down the hallway when he heard her call his name. He returned and saw her bouncing a freshly changed Judi.

"Don't be a stranger," she said brightly.

"I won't," he found himself promising before he even realized what he was saying.

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello beautiful people! This one took me a few days longer, but I've spent a lot of time mapping out where the story is going for these two. I figured I'd give you a little more of a glimpse into Beth's head. Beth is a character that I feel like is a little more self-aware then Daryl, which actually makes her a little harder to write. Getting her voice right is more of a challenge, and I hope I did it well. **

**I'd love to know what you think is going to happen next, and how you're feeling! **

**A Risk Worth Taking - Scene 4**

Beth stood eagerly in the strip of grass between the two tall fences and wiped some of the sweat from her forehead. Especially now, she couldn't afford to have it drip in her eyes and distract her. She gripped and re-gripped her knife, repeating all the things Daryl had taught her in her mind. She watched, beginning to bounce on her toes as Daryl led the closest walker to the small opening by the gate.

After weeks of technique, Daryl had decided that it was time for her to try her hand at killing a walker up-close, and Beth would be lying through her teeth if she said she felt totally ready. After a few minute of luring, Daryl managed to get the walker, a relatively new one by the look of it, isolated from the small group it was with and staggering into her space. As soon as it came in, Beth waved her hands trying to get it's attention.

"Hey, ugly," she hollered, hoping she sounded braver than she felt, "over here!"

Taking in her voice, the walker turned and began shambling in her direction. She glanced over it's shoulder and noticed that Daryl had his crossbow up and aimed, ready to kill if she messed up too badly. While she _was_ nervous, she knew with no shred of doubt that Daryl would never let her get hurt.

She backed up a few steps, assessing the walker how Daryl had taught her. It was once a man, taller and bigger than she was, so she'd have to do it quickly. It's eyes were still pretty intact, but one of it's ears was dangling, exposing soft brownish flesh that she now knew would take her directly into it's brain.

With a new found determination, Beth raised her arms and charged at the thing. It made an ungraceful swipe for her, but she managed to dodge it. She felt the sliminess of it's hand graze her shoulder though, and a chill ran down her spine.

"Try to get in when it's hands are down," Daryl called to her, a tightness to his voice that Beth had come to recognize as concern. She'd heard it first when Judith had been hurt, and again last week when they had been sparring and he had accidentally clipped her jaw. Both times had turned out fine, but they had taught her that Daryl was not always as unaffected as he seemed.

Knowing that she was making him nervous, Beth knew that she had to end this quickly. Just as she moved towards the walker again, she saw her opening. The walker's foot caught on a tangle of weeds and it lost balance. Beth danced forward, feeling slightly more confident than the first time and had just the right angle to slide her knife decisively into the walker's head. Because of the all the fence practice Daryl had made her do, she was prepared for how heavily the knife would stick and she used a considerable amount of force to pull it clean as the walker fell at her feet.

"I did it!" she beamed, looking up just as Daryl lowered his crossbow to his side.

"Sure did," he affirmed, nudging the dead walker with his toe, "Did pretty well, too."

"You think?"she asked eagerly, "I missed the first time."

"I've missed 'fore too," he said as he took her knife from her and wiped it clean on his pants, "You did it, in the end though."

He handed the knife back to her and their fingers brushed in the process. Beth fought the blush that threatened to rise in her cheeks, and she reminded herself to be sensible. Anyone with eyes could see that Daryl was good-looking; she'd thought that since she laid eyes on him back at the farm. But if she was honest with herself, the past few weeks of lessons had seen her growing dangerously attracted to him. It was ridiculous of course. Daryl was a man, and a much older one at that. No matter how hard he worked to make her a better fighter, or how he'd started smiling a little more often around her, she knew that he was just being nice. There was no way that someone as strong and capable as Daryl would ever be interested in her, at least not the way she wanted him to be. She shook her head a little, knowing that she needed to keep her thoughts in check and looked back at him.

"So, you think I'm ready?" she asked. She returned her knife to her hip-sheath and waited impatiently while he considered.

"I think you could handle yourself," he said after a beat.

Beth's stomach leapt in excitement. This was what she had worked so hard for, and now she might actually be able to accomplish her plan. At first, she'd just wanted to be able to help with supply runs, but over that last few days she had formulated an idea that she was equally excited and nervous about. And she'd need Daryl's help to make it happen.

"Is there a supply run planned for anytime soon?" she inquired.

Daryl's mouth turned up at the corners.

"Awfully excited to kill some stuff, ain't ya?" he teased.

Beth sighed in half-hearted exasperation.

"There was just some stuff I wanted to pick up, is all," she continued, "and the sooner the better."

Dary narrowed his eyes questioningly.

"What'dya need so bad?" he asked, "We got a pretty good haul two days ago, so I'd guess there won't be another one for a couple weeks."

Beth shifted her weight between her feet. She _really_ wanted to do this, but she also didn't want Daryl to think she was being stupid.

"I's just thinking," she started, scraping the toe of her boot through the dirt, "Glenn actually asked Maggie to marry'im, so I wanted to get some stuff… You know - to maybe put on a little weddin'."

She met his eyes and his expression was totally unreadable, so she continued.

"I know it won't be a proper one, but maybe I could get some nice clothes an' music, an' maybe I could rig a cake somehow."

He was still just watching her.

"I mean, I know it's the end of the world and all that don't matter anymore, but… She's my sister, an' I want her to have that…"

Beth could feel the blood creeping up her cheeks. She waited what seemed like an unnervingly long time. She just knew that Daryl would laugh and then tell her she was a fool. She had known that it was silly to begin with, and she could feel her face getting hotter and hotter. She braced herself for a lecture about wasted time and resources when Daryl let out a sigh.

"You wanna go now?" he asked.

"What?" she exclaimed, not quite believing what she had heard.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Ain't got nothin' else to do this afternoon," he said noncommittally, "The place we went a few days ago wasn't real overrun. We could probably get in an' out easy enough. Be a good practice run for you."

"Are you serious?"

"Nah, girl, I'm talkin' shit for no reason," Daryl grumbled sarcastically, "Of course I'm serious."

Beth was so happy that she could barely contain an excited squeal. At best, she had expected Daryl to tell her to wait for the next supply run. She had never dreamed that he would offer to take her here and now.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, "Ok, let me just go tell Daddy where I'm goin'. Be right back!"

She ran off towards the cell block before he could change his mind trying to figure out what in the world had made him agree. She'd seen people ask Daryl to pick things up for them before - reasonable requests, like sunblock or certain types of clothes, and he'd shrugged them off. It was only because she'd gotten so comfortable around him that she'd even considered asking. She knew that if he was with her, her daddy was much more likely to agree.

She found him sitting at a table in the common area cleaning a pistol that looked like one of the new ones they'd picked up from Woodbury. A year ago Beth wouldn't have been able to distinguish one pistol from another, but times had certainly changed. She hoped they'd changed enough to allow Hershel to be alright with this. She wasn't sure that she really needed his permission, but she would feel better about it knowing he was supportive.

"Hey Daddy," she said, taking the seat across from him, "You got a second?"

"Always, for you, Bethy," Hershel responded with a smile. He put both the gun and the rag down on the table and gave her his full attention. One of Beth's favorite things about her father was that no matter who you were, he always made you feel important.

"I was wonderin' how you'd feel 'bout me goin' on a quick supply run?"

Hershel's brow creased, but he didn't respond yet. He waited, and Beth knew it was because he figured she had more to say.

"You remember when I told you that Daryl was gonna train me up a little?"

Hershel nodded.

"He said he thought I was ready," she said very fast, "and there are some things that I've really been wantin' to get. He offered to take me today cause he thinks there's somewhere we can get in and out with no trouble."

"What do you need so bad, Darlin'?" Hershel asked, concern plain in his voice.

Beth thought quickly. She had no intention of hiding her plans from her father, but she wanted to be sure it was even a possibility before she told too many people. Daryl was enough for now. If she couldn't find what they needed, or if something else went wrong, she didn't want to disappoint anyone.

"Just some stuff for Maggie," she said, unwilling to lie even a little bit, "Please, Daddy? I promise I'll explain everything when we get back, but I don't wanna lose the light."

Hershel cocked his head to the side and ran a weary hand through his beard.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important."

Hershel sighed deeply, but appeared resigned.

"Daryl's taking you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Aright, Bethy, but you promise to be as careful as you can," he acquiesced, "and come let me know when you're back safe."

Beth beamed, knowing that it had taken a lot of confidence in her and in Daryl for Hershel to agree. She moved around the table and kissed his cheek.

"I will, Daddy," she said, "I'm ready. And I'll be safe with Daryl."

"I know you will," Hershel said heavily.

As Beth made her way back outside, she got more and more excited. It had been months since she'd been outside the prison gates, and the thought of a change of scenery was practically intoxicating. She'd almost reached the fence when she heard a motor roar and turned in it's direction.

Beth swallowed hard when she saw that Daryl had pulled his motorcycle around to the gates and was sitting astride it waiting for her. The thought of climbing onto that bike behind him increased her heart rate considerably. Sitting there, looking like the incarnation of everything she'd ever thought was dangerous and exciting, he was making it difficult as hell to keep her thoughts in check.

She forced a steadying breath and crossed the rest of the yard to stand next to him.

"We're not takin' a car?" she asked, praying that his answer would be no.

"Bike's better on gas," he commented, handing her a large camping backpack "Plus, I figured you could wear one of the packs. How much stuff do you need?"

"The pack'll do," she said, even though she really had no idea how much room she would need. She'd make it work.

"Hop on, then" he said, hitching his head back to indicate that she should climb on behind him.

Trying desperately to look more collected than she felt, Beth swung a leg over the bike and managed to settle herself onto the passenger's seat.

"You ever ride a bike before?" he asked.

"Nope," she replied honestly, "Never knew anyone who had one."

Daryl snorted.

"Yeah, I expect you didn't" he said with just a hint of bitterness.

"I've always wanted to try, though," Beth added brightly. She didn't want Daryl to think she was scared.

"S'pretty simple. Don't have a helmet anymore, so grip as best you can with your knees," he explained, "Try to lean into the turns with me - makes steering easier if you ain't fighting me."

"Got it," she said, nodding rapidly.

"Other than that, just try to enjoy it," he said, in what she'd come to recognize as his relaxed voice. It had taken her a few weeks to understand Daryl's mood shifts, but the more she was around him the easier it got.

Beth felt every nerve ending in her body jump to life when Daryl revved the engine on the bike and started toward to gate. She hadn't been prepared for the kick, though and had to grasp at Daryl's shoulders to keep from sliding off.

He stopped the bike and chuckled at her.

"You gotta hold on, girl," he teased.

Beth felt silly and tightened her grip on the faded leather shoulders of his jacket.

He looked back at her and gave her a smirk.

"Tighter'n that, now," he said a little softer.

Before she realized it, he had snagged her hands from where they lay awkwardly and wrapped them securely around his middle. Beth's pulse skyrocketed. Her whole front was pressed up against his back, and she involuntarily tangled her hands into the front of his faded shirt.

Without another comment, Daryl guided the bike out of the gates and opened up the engine once they were out on the road. He hit the accelerator hard and Beth couldn't help but giggle at the intensity of the speed. She held onto him for dear life and pressed her cheek into the leather of his vest.

In that moment, free of the prison's gate, cool wind tickling her cheek, and practically wrapped around Daryl Dixon, Beth couldn't remember a time when she was any happier than this.

**Alright, y'all. They're outside of the prison and all manner of shenanigans can ensue! I cross my heart to pick up exactly where this left off in the next chapter (but probably back in Daryl's head) and let you know how the wedding shopping goes.**

**I know the whole "wedding scenario" might be a little cheesy, but it's something that would be really important to girls like Beth and Maggie. I'm a church-goin' Southern girl, myself, and I think It'd be important to me. **

**We'll get to see how Daryl feels about it next time! Stay tuned in, and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok guys, much as he doesn't want to admit it, we'll get a small idea of Daryl's feelings for Beth in this chapter! She's about to introduce him to a world of weddings! Do you think he's ready?**

**A Risk Worth Taking - Scene 5**

Daryl was almost disappointed when he saw the parking lot of the store loom into view. His practical side had told him that taking the bike was a terrible idea. It was loud, didn't carry much, and he didn't have a helmet for her, but when he'd seen the look on her face as she approached him he couldn't help himself. He knew she'd never ridden without even having to ask, and he couldn't bring himself to feel bad about liking the way she hadn't loosened her grip since they left the prison.

Daryl has always loved the open road, and since the world fell apart it had remained relatively uninhabited. Something about this run had him more at ease than he'd ever been before. Knowing that he'd already been to this particular location without seeing many walkers, and the fact that Beth was here with him made this feel more like an outing and less like a chore. There was a certain novelty to scouting for things that they didn't need to survive as well. Maybe if this went well he could bring Beth back to look for some books for the kids or something.

Immediately he scolded himself. Since when did thoughts like that belong to him?

He decided it didn't matter and that he'd better get himself together and clear his head before they went in. He pulled the bike directly up to the large glass doors and killed the engine on the bike.

"That was awesome!" Beth gushed as he got off the bike and reached to steady her.

He couldn't stop a chuckle from escaping at her excitement.

"I mean, I've always wanted to ride one," she continued, "but I didn't expect it to be that fun!"

"Happy to oblige," he mumbled, unsure of how to respond to so much feminine enthusiasm, even though he was happy at bringing that smile to her face.

He waited for her to adjust from the ride, fixing her windblown ponytail and checking to make sure her knife was still securely strapped in place before he wheeled a rusty cart over to her.

"Now," he started, "the most important thing to remember about doin' this, is that you gotta move fast. The less time we spend in there, the better."

Beth nodded.

"You know what you're lookin' for?" he asked.

"Yep," she replied, pulling a grubby bit of paper from her jeans pocket, "I made a list, and most Targets are set up the same."

Daryl didn't know about that. He couldn't say it was anywhere he'd been familiar with before. His run with Michonne and Glenn the other day had been the first time he'd been in one.

He could tell by the wide set of Beth's eyes that she was a nervous. It was the same look she'd had the first time he'd suggested stabbing something, and he knew that this was an even bigger step for her.

"If you come across a walker in there, you remember what I showed you, alright?"

"Daryl?" she asked a little shakily.

"Hm?"

"What if there are other people?"

He sighed. That was his biggest concern as well.

"I'll handle that," he assured her.

With a decisive nod and a tight-lipped smile, Beth let him know that she was ready. He lifted the bow and scanned the area before nudging the door open with the toe of his boot. A cursory glance around didn't reveal any walkers, but he'd been burned enough times to know that initial checks didn't mean shit.

To his left was one of those metal racks with all kinds of fancy gift cards displayed. With little ceremony, he elbowed it until it fell to the floor with a decisive crash.

"What the hell?" Beth whispered, jumping a mile.

He smirked a little at hearing her cuss for the first time.

"Noise'll let us know what we're dealing with," he explained, "if a bunch of 'em are here, we bail and try later."

Beth breathed a sigh of relief. She stood close enough to his shoulder that he could feel her body tense as she waited. Once he'd counted to thirty and seen nothing, he decided they could proceed.

"What exactly're you after?" he asked.

She consulted her list and pointed in the direction of the food. He led the way as she explained.

"I know I can't find enough stuff for a cake, but I's hopin' for some of that just-add-water pancake mix."

Daryl couldn't stop a snort of laughter from escaping.

"You're gonna make 'em a weddin' pancake?" he teased.

She swatted at his arm.

"Well, do you have a better idea?"

"Nope," he admitted, "Just don't figure theres ever been a weddin' pancake in the state of Georgia before."

From what Daryl understood, weddings were a big deal for people who came from a world like Beth's. He'd never been to one, but he'd heard talk of white silk, and fresh roses, and churches packed full of people. He'd be willing to bet that the girl Beth had been in her previous life would never imagine a wedding happening like this. For reasons he wasn't willing to explore, the thought made him more determined to help her.

They found what she was looking for with ease and deposited it in the cart. He watched with amusement as Beth gained a little confidence with the easy find. With a new bounce in her step she led him to various sections of the store and collected things like plastic table cloths, several CDs, and a small battery-powered boombox. When he started to doubt that they would be able to carry all of this back, he put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"Gettin' kinda full there," he commented, wryly.

"Only clothes and rings left!" she responded brightly, clearly happy with how things were going.

Daryl shook his head as he followed her. He cringed a little when he thought of what Merle would say if he could see him now. He was so lost in his thoughts, that he almost careened right into Beth when she stopped suddenly. They were in the middle of an aisle that featured large glass jewelry cases to the left and a racks of dusty clothes on the right.

She ran a hand through her long ponytail and seemed to be considering which side she wanted.

"I'm gonna browse for some dresses," she said, motioning to the clothes, "You look through those cases and try some of the wedding rings on. Somethin' plain and gold."

She turned to walk away, but Daryl caught her arm to stop her.

"Why in the hell do I need to try a ring on?" he demanded, growing slightly panicky at the very thought.

"Cause if it fits you, it'll fit Glenn," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the word.

"Girl, I don't know nothin' about no weddin' rings," he started to protest again, but was caught off guard by her planting a hand squarely in the middle of his chest.

"Daryl," she said slowly, "This is not that complicated. Gold ring. Fits your weddin' finger. Nothin' fancy."

He glared a minute, but couldn't raise up quite as much annoyance as he would like. After all, he was the one who had been preaching to her about how important it was to be fast. With a sigh and a mutter about bossy womenfolk, he made his way over to the jewelry cases and wiped at the layer of grime that had formed on them.

Several panes of glass and one lock-picking later, he managed to locate the case of men's rings and made quick work of finding one that fit comfortably on the ring finger of his left hand. He removed it and tucked it into the buttoned flap of his shirt pocket before making his way around the other side of the counter.

He was just getting ready to find Beth when the sparkle from a small, rotating rack on the jewelry counter caught his eye. Daryl could honestly say that he'd never spent a moment of his thirty-two years considering any type of jewelry, but something about it made him do a double take.

The display contained several different styles of necklace, and he found himself stopping to take a closer look. One in particular,a stone the exact color of a summer sky, nestled in a silver circle and strung on a delicate chain, reminded him strongly and immediately of Beth. He slammed his palm on the counter at his utter stupidity.

Beth wasn't anything to him; not really. She was Hershel's daughter, the self-appointed camp mama, and the girl he had been teaching to throw a punch. He had absolutely no reason to smile at her jokes or find any damn jewelry for her. Jewelry. During the apocalypse. He was a fool, and not the kind that was accustomed to picking out anyone's necklaces.

Still, he couldn't shake the image of the twisted bits of leather and string she kept on both wrists, or the macaroni noodle on a strand of yarn around her neck that one of the kids had made her. If anyone in this whole mess appreciated things like that it was Beth.

With a string of curse words and some self-deprecation that sounded an awful lot like Merle in his head, Daryl stuffed the necklace in his pants pocket. If it fell out it served him right, and if it didn't - well, he'd figure that much out later.

Making to cross the aisle and drag Beth from the store before he lost anymore brain cells, Daryl froze in his tracks as he heard a muffled scream up ahead. He raised his crossbow and took off in that direction, finally rounding a corner to see a sight that washed his whole body in a cold and paralyzing fear.

Beth was on the ground, wriggling desperately to get out from under the body of a half-rotted walker. Though she was shaking, she wrenched her knife from the side of it's head and stood to face another one that was bearing down on her. He raced closer to her, trying to find the angle for a good shot. He watched in horror as Beth swiped at the walker and missed, the thing latching suddenly onto her arm and dragging her against it.

Throwing his crossbow to the ground, Daryl snatched his knife and moved faster than he thought was possible to bury it hilt-deep in the walker's skull. Beth fell back against him, panting, and he shoved her behind him as gently as he could, scanning for another threat. He watched in what felt like slow motion as a door on the back wall burst open and off the hinges. A dozen or so walkers, all wearing identical red polo-shirts staggered towards them from what once must have been a break room.

Knowing instinctively that Beth wasn't going to be much help in a fight that size, Daryl made the executive decision that they were done. He dragged Beth to her feet and reached into the cart for the pack they had been loading. Even with the dangers bearing down on them, Daryl knew how disappointed Beth would be if her things got left behind.

"Beth, we gotta run!" he shouted over the din of the walkers stumbling into things.

He slung the pack over his shoulder, grabbed his bow from the ground, and gripped her hand tightly in his before tearing for the front door. Beth looked dazed, but he was relieved to see that she was following directions and keeping up well.

Once out the front doors, Daryl all but threw Beth onto the backseat of the bike, and turned the key quickly. He felt better outside, but knew the walkers would have no problem following them through the open doors. Without a backward glance, he turned the bike back into the direction of the prison and sped onto the road.

Once he got up to a steady speed, he realized that Beth was clinging to him like a tree in a hurricane, and that her whole body was trembling. He had half a mind to stop and calm her, but knew that the priority was getting miles between them and the walkers. Carefully steering with one hand, Daryl reached down and covered her two tiny hands with his. He knew he didn't have anything in this world to offer Beth except protection, and for now, that would have to do.

**And the dang walkers have to come and ruin everything! I hope Beth's response to them wasn't too meek. I feel like you have to remember that she's seen walkers before, but never had to fight one hand-to-hand. **

**Also, since you guys are so awesome, I'll tell you that the next chapter is going to be big, emotionally. I feel like both of them have admitted their reluctant attractions to themselves, but I think it's high time they give the other at least a little clue! **

**Plus, Daryl's still got that necklace in his pocket…**

**Tell me what you're thinking! **


	6. Chapter 6

**Greetings! As always, that you guys for being amazing! This might be the chapter that brings this story 100+ follows, and I can't tell you how cool it is that you guys are loving this as much as I am!**

**I promised you some heavy emotion in this one, and I hope I delivered. It's not as long as the other chapters, but I promise to make up for that. I have another scene to come shortly after this, but the tones didn't fit. This is heavy, and I wanted it to stand alone because of that. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**A Risk Worth Taking - Scene 6**

Beth tried very hard to focus on the things she could control. That had been her best coping mechanism since all this mess had first started. The state of the world was outside her realm of influence, but for now she could handle pushing air in and out of her own lungs. She reminded herself over and over that they were both safe, speeding away from the store on Daryl's bike, and that the bag of things for Maggie and Glenn's makeshift wedding was strung securely across her shoulders. Repeating that mantra helped her slowly get a handle on the panic that threatened to consume her.

They'd been doing so well. She had practically everything that she'd come for, and Daryl was being much more laid-back than she'd ever seen him before. She was almost enjoying herself when she'd felt the first cold, dead hand curl around her leg. Remembering how it happened, she couldn't help but scold herself for her carelessness. She'd been humming, casually flipping through the racks of sun-dresses that hadn't been touched in some time. She hadn't even been paying attention. Stupid.

And before she realized it, there were two very large walkers that were practically on top of her. They must have been dormant in the back somewhere and hadn't stumbled out until she'd started making so much noise. She had handled the first one with relative ease, but when it fell on her, she knew she was in trouble. If it hadn't been for Daryl's quick reaction, she'd be nothing more than a bloody mess right now.

A new wave of terror washed over her at the thought of all the people she would have left behind at the prison, all because she hadn't thought to be quiet. Hot tears threatened to fall, but she tried her best to hold them in. She'd already let Daryl down enough today, and she was sure he wouldn't be comfortable with her bursting into hysterics. She thought of how, only a second ago, he had covered her hands with his, and she felt an involuntary rush of warmth enter her chest. Even after she'd screwed up so badly, he was trying to make sure she was ok.

Her train of thought was abruptly ended when Daryl turned the bike off of the main road and skidded into a gravel driveway that she hadn't even noticed. He guided the bike to a stop underneath a stand of oak trees and hopped off. Before she had a chance to ask him what they were doing, he'd seized her hand and pulled her off beside him. She could only sputter incoherently while he stalked a circle around her, running his hands quickly down the sides of her arms and over her back

"You ain't hurt, are you?" he asked, still scanning her body, "None of them bastards scratched you or nothin'?"

"N-no," Beth stammered, trying desperately to keep her composure.

When he seemed satisfied that she wasn't hurt, she saw him visibly sag with relief and lean back against a tree, bending to rest his hands on his knees.

"Daryl, I… I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention, and…" she tried, but faltered when she felt a sob threaten to rack her body. She pressed a hand to her forehead and tried to steady her breathing.

Daryl met her eyes, and in two strides was crushing her in a hug so hard she almost couldn't breath. Partly because his reaction surprised her so much, and mostly because she hadn't felt so useless since the time her family's farm had been overrun, Beth burst into tears. She brought her hands up to clutch the front of his shirt and allowed herself a brief moment to vent all of her fears and frustrations.

Beth was shocked when, instead of pushing her away, Daryl seemed to draw her in closer, totally enveloping her in his strong arms. She couldn't remember feeling so safe in what felt like forever. After the farm, after watching so many of her friends die, she had promised herself that she would always be wary. But in this moment, she couldn't. With her whole body pressed up against the solid wall of Daryl's chest, breathing in the smell of woodsmoke off of his shirt, she knew that just for right now she could indulge in a tiny moment of weakness.

After too short of a time, she pulled back, not wanting him to think she was ridiculous. The logical part of her brain knew she couldn't make a habit of blubbering all over Daryl, but all she wanted to do was curl into him until she felt safe and warm again. She shook her head and decided she'd try for another apology instead, especially since he was looking rather bewildered at what had just happened.

"I can't believe I was so stupid," she whispered.

He met her eyes and blinked several times before appearing to find his words.

"S'alright," he started, his voice a little raspy "You took the first one out. Couldn't help losin' your balance."

"But it probably wouldn't have happened in the first place if I had kept my mouth shut," she berated herself further.

Daryl gave her a quizzical look and she realized that he hadn't been close enough to hear her near-fatal tune.

"I was humming," she confessed, " I don't think I even realized I was doing it, until the one was practically on top of me."

She saw a mercurial shift come over Daryl as his whole body tightened. She steeled herself for the tongue-lashing she knew she deserved, but he continued staring at her in stony silence.

"After all the time you spent teachin' me," she said shakily, "I had to go and make that stupid of a mistake…"

Daryl sighed deeply and ran a hand over the stubble that covered his jaw.

"It can be hard to shake habits like that," he admitted tightly, "I know you didn't mean it."

Beth looked at him incredulously. She felt her stomach do a flip when his eyes locked on hers, dark and desperate

"But you gotta learn to fight it. Shit like that can get you killed, and I don't know what I would…" Daryl broke off, his voice cracking.

She waited, her heart pounding in her ears.

"Beth," he started again, "When I saw...When I thought that walker- that's the most - Damn it!"

He practically screamed the last two words, and Beth tried her hardest not to flinch. she'd never seen him like this before. It was like he didn't even have control of his words, and she'd come to think of Daryl as someone who was always in control. He'd been in plenty of dangerous situations; what could possibly be so different about this one?

"I just don't want to see anything happen to you, is all," he finally said.

He was staring at his boots when he managed to get it out, and Beth felt realization hit her like a ton of bricks. He wasn't mad. He was worried. About her. She knew she didn't have the time to think that over properly, so she went with her gut and closed a little of the distance between them.

"Thank you," she said quietly, "For everything."

He met her eyes, expression unreadable.

"I - I mean, you trained me, you brought me out here, and then you saved me when I couldn't handle it," she stammered, "Just… thank you."

"You didn't do so bad," he responded, deflecting her gratitude.

"I'd be dead right not without you, and we both know that."

For what seemed like the thousandth time in mere minutes, Daryl's startling blue eyes shifted and Beth found herself struck by the fierceness in them.

"As long as there's breath in my body, ain't nothin' like that happenin' to you."

His accent was thick and his voice was so low that she almost didn't hear him. It felt as if everything around her was in slow motion. How had she gotten here? Several weeks ago Daryl Dixon had been a man she barely knew, and in this moment he was swearing to protect her in a tone that was as reverent as a prayer. Something about his words felt like a confession and Beth couldn't stop her imagination from jumping to a thousand different scenarios.

Was it possible that he felt something more for her? She would be lying to herself if she said she hadn't thought about crossing that line with him; that she hadn't daydreamed about pressing her mouth to his, about feeling the muscles of his arms shift under her hands. For a brief and terrifying moment, she considered it. But a part of her knew it would be a mistake right now. She didn't even know if that was what he had meant in the first place. Maybe he just felt responsible for her?

Either way she knew they didn't have the time to hash it out now. They needed to get back before Hershel worried and before it got dark.

Daryl seemed to come to this conclusion in the same moment she did. She watched as he breathed deeply and forcibly returned to his regular capable self. She hadn't responded to his words, but she felt that was alright for now. In fact, he probably appreciated that more than a conversation.

"S'gettin' late," he muttered, " We should get on back."

Beth nodded and took the hand that Daryl offered to help her onto the back of the bike and, all at once, realized how exhausted she was. There were a lot of things she had to figure out, but she needed more time and more energy.

For now, she would have to be content with wrapping her arms around him and playing his whispered words back in her head over, and over, and over again.

**So now Beth has a hunch! I didn't want to make Daryl confess too much, cause I feel like that would be really out of character for him. The Beth I've seen in the show though, is incredibly intuitive and would probably have been able to make the jump from Daryl swearing to protect her to Daryl feeling something for her. That kind of thing is huge for him, I think. **

**I promise I haven't forgotten the necklace! It will appear in the next chapter for sure! **

**Please review and lots of love!**


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